


Enigma

by Philemal



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Escort!Prompto, Idk how to tag things, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, lap dance, noct is grumpy but he gets some ass
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-22
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-27 01:12:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15013445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Philemal/pseuds/Philemal
Summary: I don’t really recall how I got into this predicament– the haze of alcohol influences me greatly, and I find myself unable to focus on the simplest of tasks.It had been my 30th birthday, and my friend, Gladiolus, decided to hire an escort for my gift.At first, I was opposed to the idea, but over the course of the night, sharing drinks and his company, I grew very fond of the concept.Prompto was enigmatic. His violet eyes peered at me over the rim of his glass, sparkling like expensive jewels. His skin was flushed, from the liquor, and his hair was slightly mussed– in a way that only made me want to grab it, tug it and claim him for my own. My gut was on fire when I looked at his lips, watching the way they moved into a smirk, lingering in my brain like a kiss. He knew I was staring. Yet, he only takes another sip of his drink, and I greedily watch the bob of his throat as he does so.





	Enigma

I don’t really recall how I got into this predicament– the haze of alcohol influences me greatly, and I find myself unable to focus on the simplest of tasks. 

It had been my 30th birthday, and my friend, Gladiolus, decided to hire an escort for my gift.

At first, I was opposed to the idea, but over the course of the night, sharing drinks and his company, I grew _very_ fond of the concept.

Prompto was enigmatic. His violet eyes peered at me over the rim of his glass, sparkling like expensive jewels. His skin was flushed, from the liquor, and his hair was slightly mussed– in a way that only made me want to grab it, tug it and claim him for my own. My gut was on fire when I looked at his lips, watching the way they moved into a smirk, lingering in my brain like a kiss. He knew I was staring. Yet, he only takes another sip of his drink, and I greedily watch the bob of his throat as he does so.

“I don’t usually kiss on the first date– but I guess I can make an exception for royalty.”

He set down his drink, and I felt my face twitch with a grin. Prompto, while enigmatic, was also completely transparent. I could see straight through his words– the way his thighs pressed together, uncrossing and crossing to catch my attention. And what nice thighs they were. There was a part of me that got off on the fact that he _worshiped_ me. I could see him now– on his knees between my legs, eyes glazed over as those pretty lips swallow me down.

It was a bad thing to think of – because _fuck_ – my pants felt too tight. He tilted his head, exposing the side of his neck, which practically screamed for my mouth – highlighted by the yellow tint of the lamp and glimmering with the technicolor hues of the city in the distance. His eyes were twinkling, tossing me a knowing look that made my spine tingle. He wouldn’t move unless I gave him the incentive, and I wasn’t quite sure if I was ready to give in.

It felt right, talking with him, being with him. He was easy to speak with, and we just fit, like two pieces of a puzzle. He melded perfectly into me, and I found myself wanting more. I wanted to feel him. _All_ of him. The urge to pounce on him was almost overwhelming. I took another sip of my drink, feeling it burn its way down my throat. He watches me curiously, head lolled onto his shoulder in a sultry haze. I set the glass down on the coffee-table, breathing deep.

“How old are you?”

Prompto grinned wide, pressing closer with a slowness that made my arousal seethe. “Old enough.” I found it hard to believe. Prompto looked very young, with flushed cheeks and long lashes – a body that was dripping with _sin_. He was close to me, so close I could feel his body heat on my thigh. “I don’t think you have to worry about that– with me being a _whore_ and all.” My brain reeled with the words– and suddenly I wondered if he _liked_ being called a whore. Yeah, my pants were definitely too tight now. Prompto’s face was peering into mine, as if he knew what he was doing, as if he _knew_ the effect of his words. “You gonna kiss me or what?”

I gazed at him, falling into those deep violets, pupils dilated with his want. He had grown close enough for me to feel his breath mingling with mine, smelling vaguely of mint and alcohol. His hand reached to touch my face, and I grabbed his wrist. He flinched– I could feel the way his breath stilled, and see the way his eyes widened in slight shock. Though his lips curled into a soft grin, that familiar _knowing_ look on his face. I could tell that he liked it, when my grip tightened, almost possessively. His lips were twitching, hovering inches away from mine, and I desperately wanted to close that distance.

I wanted to feel him against me, to taste him– to breathe into him and feel him breathing back. I pulled his wrist, and he came forward, willing and pliant. He was more than ready for the moment when our lips touched. Sparks rolled between his teeth, and my reason gave way to passion– tugging him until he was on my lap entirely. He hummed low in the back of his throat, and the sound reverberated within me. I grabbed his hips, and they tilted in a slow roll– giving me an excellent image of how nicely he filled out my palms.

His lips were soft.

The sound he makes when I grab his ass is simply criminal– the way he shudders from the touch has my chest twisting almost painfully. I wanted to see what other sounds he could make. Was he sensitive? I trapped his lower lip between my teeth, and I could hear him laugh, breathless and endlessly sexy. _He_ was sexy. His tongue was in my mouth, then, roving over mine, exploring.

I hardly experienced sexual attraction. This was a very, _very_ rare occasion. Something about Prompto drives me up the fucking wall– but damn, I love it. I hadn’t wanted to indulge in a long while– and I was suddenly understanding why Gladio hired a hooker for me. I was pent up, snapping at everybody for no good reason besides breathing. I was irritable, and down-right mean– and the solution was clear.

I just needed a good lay.

And frankly, I was giving in too easily.

It was the alcohol.

Definitely not his freckles, or his cocky mannerisms that somehow managed to both irritate and arouse me. Nor his pale skin, clashing boldly with the redness of his full-body blush. Not even his voice, mewling _sugar_ into my lips. Definitely not the way his hands clasped around the back of my neck, tilting my head so he can probe deeper into my mouth.

Definitely the alcohol.

I ran my hands up his sides, slinking underneath his cotton shirt and making him shiver. He says something along the lines of ‘fingers are cold’ in between kisses, and it’s oddly domestic. My fingertips ghost on his skin, barely tasting his flesh, boring into his eyes. His fore-head was pressed into mine, and there’s a sloppy looking string of spit as he parts, eyes blown wide with hunger. Fuck, he looks good. He moves away, nearly tearing his shirt off his body, and I swallow thickly at the sight.

He was tone, but not overtly muscular– just how I liked. Something tells me Gladio knew what he was doing. There were faint lines of exertion on his abdomen, and the freckles really were everywhere. They splattered like constellations across his shoulders, over his chest– free of hair. He’s smiling at me, and his thighs are on either sides of my hips. He reaches forward, fingers clutching my chin. He’s nearly towering over me now, tongue swiping his lower lip, blonde hair hanging over his _hungry_ eyes.

His hips roll, and fuck – the friction is so good. I stifle a groan by gritting my teeth, but by the way I grip his sides, he knows that it affects me. He gives a sort of smug smile, and he’s gyrating his hips, grinding them downwards and onto my aching cock. His fingers grip my face tighter, and he moves for my neck, breaking eye-contact. My eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his lips on my skin, the warm heat of his tongue– and the precise twist of his body that leaves me reeling.

He really has a way with it – he was only grinding on me, but it’s enough to make my lips part in a strained, quiet groan. I was getting lost in it; my world was spinning and coming together like broken glass, focusing down into one fine point. He’s making a pleased sound in the back of his throat when I move to pull his hair, tilting his lips away from my neck – undoubtedly slathered in hickeys. I press two of my fingers to his lips, and his eyes flash darkly, storming over in excitement and eagerness. He wants to show me what he can do, and it’s intoxicating.

He parts his teeth, taking me in _oh_ so well – tongue dancing over my fingertips with a skill that would put even the dirtiest of strippers to shame. His eyes glaze over, and fuck, the image in my head can’t even compare to the real thing. I can feel enamel grazing my flesh as he closes his mouth completely, eyes fluttering almost innocently as he bobs his head. It was slow at first, but then he hollows his cheeks– and my dick jumps within my jeans as he continues to grind on me.

Prompto was gorgeous. His blonde lashes were narrowed, and his pupils were blown wide, and his cheeks were stained red with his excitement. His tongue pressed flat to my fingers, and I watched him closely. I wanted to fuck him right here, on my couch, and then take him against my bedroom door, and then pound him into the mattress. I think he’d like that, too, with the way he’s eagerly sucking down my fingers.

I press them in deeper, and he takes them greedily – and _fuck_ , he doesn’t have a gag reflex. “Gods.” I mutter. He laughs around my fingers, and it sounds like a purr – I can feel his breath on the top of my hand, coming out in slow, even pants.

He slides off my fingers, but gives them a little lick, eyes still trained on me to see every little reaction that crosses my face. “You gonna fuck me on the couch or are you gonna take me back to your room?” His voice is wet, and the sound of it makes me hum. Something tells me he has a dirty mouth – but then again, he’s whatever I want him to be for the time being. I was drunk on him, on his swirling violet eyes, on his pretty mouth tilted in a smirk, lips damp with spit.

“I was thinking about it.” I admit. He would look nice laid out for me, holding up his legs while I rail him.

Gods – why was I so affected?

I lick my lips absent-mindedly, gripping at his sides again. “Where would _you_ like to go? You _are_ the one being fucked after all.”

Prompto grins like a Cheshire cat, positively mischievous and smug. “Taking care of me?” He questions, growing close to my face again. He licks my lips, and the corner of my mouth, then my chin – and I’m oddly turned on by it. And, yeah, I was taking care of him. What kind of king would I be if I didn’t? “The bed makes things easier.” I hum my agreement, fingers still damp. He slides off of me, and I immediately miss his warmth, feeling all to eager to take him to bed already.

I stand, and offer my hand to him. He downs the rest of his drink before placing his warm palm within mine, eyes burning with his impish tendencies. He stands, bare chest shining in the dim light, and I lead him to my room, firmly stifling the urge to press him against the wall and fuck him until he’s wailing.

It was strange how _potently_ he affects me. He was like a drug, and I was taking him in eagerly, wanting to see more – to _feel_ more. I shut the bedroom door behind us, and fuck, he’s already wiggling his way out of those absurdly tight skinny jeans. He’s making a damn show of it too, peering over his shoulder to gaze at me longingly.

My throat goes dry. He moves his hips, back and forth, as if trying to lure me in. It was working. I ripped my shirt off my body, and he seems to appreciate the sight, eyes working over me. I move to unbuckle my belt, but he halts me, fingers hovering over my jeans. “I’ll do that for you.” He’s close to me, and his brows raise in a suggestive manner. It felt like Prompto was enjoying it more than I was at this point, but fuck – I couldn’t complain, not when Prompto pushes me towards the bed, sliding my belt off with a stylish finesse. He presses a hand to my chest, and I sit willingly onto the mattress, covered in silky black sheets.

Prompto’s eyes are glimmering, skin painted in yellow light from the bed-side lamp. It was dim, and it only seemed to add to the appeal – the aesthetics of his body, tone and taut, littered with freckles. He uses the belt to tilt my chin upwards, and the leather presses against my skin. He’s towering over me again, violet eyes peering into my own blue ones. He was seeping with dominance, and suddenly, I find myself very open to the thought of Prompto bending _me_ over.

“How do you want me?” He asks, trailing the leather of my belt down to my collarbone. It felt odd, to have my own clothing used against me in such a lewd manner, but it was intoxicating regardless. I stared at him, and his pretty mouth, and I grinned.

“I’m sure you can think of _something_. On your knees, maybe?” I lean back on my palms, trying to come off as bored and uninterested– and it seemed to spur him on. He let the belt slide to the floor, and I could see the heat of his skin, turning red with his lust. He looked like he was _very_ keen on the idea of sucking me off.

“I think I can manage that, _your majesty._ ” He grins, mischievous and wonderful, as he works at my jeans again. He slips to his knees on the carpeted floor, and fuck – the sight makes my head spin. He looks so fucking good. And he knows he does, looking up at me with those lecherous eyes, biting his lower lip as he tugs at my jeans. I lift my hips, just enough for him to pull the fabric down my legs, and my boxers go as well. He’s eyeing my cock now, which was almost painfully hard, resting against my belly and leaking already. “Gladio was right. You look pretty pent up.” He’s grinning again, cupping my balls and making my jaw clench. My eyes flicker over his face, trying to engrave this image into my head for later.

His hands splay over my thighs, and he’s leaning close, giving a tentative lick to the tip of my dick. He’s feeling things out, trying to get a grasp of how sensitive I am – and I curl my hand into his hair in response, eliciting a pleased sound and a puff of breath that make my toes curl. He looks _very_ pleased with himself, licking a line on the underside of my dick, all the way to the tip. I grip his hair tighter, feeling heat twist in my gut.

It looks like he liked getting his hair pulled too, because when I tug insistently on it, I could see the way his hips shifted in the fore-ground. He’s teasing me, and at the moment, I wasn’t in the mood for games. I pull again, and he makes a keening noise, before wrapping his lips around the tip of my cock and sucking. I make a low sound in my throat, feeling his fingers move up to my hip-bones, practically making love to me with his hands. He’s still looking up at me with those sinful eyes, making my whole body ache for release.

Prompto’s fucking good at head, too, which isn’t a shock.

He’s flicking his tongue all over my dick, pin-pointing the most sensitive bits and striking with a brutal precision that leaves me panting. He draws away, moving down to bring one of my balls in his mouth, sucking eagerly – trying to elicit a response. And, he gets what he wants, because fuck, it’s so good. I’m moaning, and my nails are scratching against his scalp painfully, but he doesn’t seem to care. In fact, he’s _whining_ , high pitched and in the back of his throat, eyes lidded and glazed with heat and sugar. He’s breathing heavily, and he swallows me down half-way, hollowing his cheeks. The sound that escapes me is unholy, and I’m still pulling on his hair, pushing his head down until the tip of my dick hits the back of his throat.

His eyes were dark and heavy, yet somehow burning brightly with an unspoken _challenge_. It was if he were daring me to face-fuck him, to pound his throat – and for a second, I don’t think he can _do_ that. He’s deep-throating me with such ease, though, nose pressing into tufts of black hair – and his eyes flutter shut as he _hums_. Fuck, that felt too good to be _real_. How was he even real? I moan, unashamed, and maybe I was drunk, but I couldn’t bring myself to care about it. All of my attention was on him. Prompto, who swallowed me down so fucking perfectly, lips stretched to accommodate my length.

I decided to take him up on that challenge.

My other hand comes round, and he grips my hips tighter as if he knew what was about to happen – both my hands curl into his hair, holding his head steady while I rolled my hips upward. Prompto looks up at me, eyes tinted red round the corners, but still so _wanting_. I’m breathing heavily, and the twist of heat in my gut is convulsing, seething at the promiscuous display before me. His throat is tight, and it wraps around me _oh_ so well, and I could feel my control slipping away with each thrust. It was so easy to fuck his face like this, to slide into that dazed state, drunk on whiskey and pleasure.

Prompto’s accepting and willing, nails digging crescents into my skin, but fuck – I don’t care. He looks so good, and feels even better, sucking my cock for all I’m worth, eager to drink me dry. “Fuck,” I groan, and he glows with pride, eyes flashing dangerously. He removes one hand from my side, reaching down to play with my balls, and my hips buck wildly at the feeling. My chest is heaving, and his throat is making lewd noises, and he’s fucking _moaning_ with every thrust. He’s getting off on this. The revelation hits me like a brick-wall, making every nerve ending in my body seethe with a white-hot heat. “Gods, you’re good at this.”

Prompto would’ve grinned, if his face was stuffed with my dick. He turns his head, eyelashes fluttering – and it’s a miracle I don’t cum right there. He’s sliding upwards, parting from me with a lewd _pop_. Spit is glistening on his face, staining his perfect skin, and he has this triumphant smile on his lips. “Thank you.” He coos, thumb rubbing circles into my hips. His breath still falls on my dick, heavy and hot, and it gives an appreciative twitch at the feeling. I didn’t want to cum yet, but I was torn between finishing on his face or in balls deep in his ass.

He stands, and he’s pitching a tent in his boxers, slightly damp with his pre-cum. “Do you want me to ride you, highness?” I look up to his face, peering down at me with those mischievous violets. “I could fuck you into a coma, if that’s what you want.”

Gods, yes.

The prospect sounds like pure heaven. It sounded like everything I needed and more, and suddenly, I was tugging at his boxers. He gives a laugh, breathless, and pulls them down his long legs. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him, fully hard and leaking – pink and _pretty_ just like the rest of him. I look back up to his face, and his lips are parted, purple eyes swirling with a heated curiosity. “Yeah. Fuck. Ride me.” I say, voice sounding broken and hoarse, and far away to my own ears. His face lights up. Like he needs to be told twice.

He’s pushing me further up onto the bed, probably too big, and I make myself comfortable with some pillows. He’s crawling over me, layering kisses onto my abdomen, all the way up to my chest, taking his sweet time and covering me with love-marks that would no doubt take a long time to fade. His eyes meet mine, all heat and lust, and I love every second of it. It felt like it would never be enough, even with him worshiping me, kissing every inch of my skin until that coil in my gut is tightening painfully.

His teeth graze my jugular, and I can’t help but shudder, with my hands gripping his hips. He was straddling me – and suddenly, through my drunken haze, I remember that he needs to be prepared. Stretched out on my fingers. Yeah, that sounds nice. I move swiftly, my fingertips delving in the cleft of his ass, and his breath hitches audibly.

To my surprise, he’s already slick with lube, and my finger slides in easily. Fuck. The idea of him writhing while he fucks himself is driving me up the wall again. It was purely professional, sure, but there was a charm to it that makes my arousal double over, threatening to spill. “You usually do that?” I ask, my lips grazing his ear. I slide in another finger, feeling how tight and hot he was. Gods, that would feel good around my dick.

“Mm,” He hums, stretched out on top of me like a great display of art. He’s leaning into my palm, angling his hips downwards until my fingers hit _that_ spot. He reacts immediately, spine arching with a tilt of his head, holding his breath. “You’re a _special_ customer.” He says, with a puffed exhale. I nearly groan, sliding in yet another finger that has him spinning on top of me, eyes fluttering shut, getting lost in the feeling. “Fuck. That’s good.” I grin lazily, lips closing around the lobe of his ear. He shudders violently, and I could feel it go straight to my dick.

Prompto’s practically fucking himself on my hand after a few more flicks of my fingers. He’s whining and keening, curling inwards towards my body, breathing hard into my neck. I could keep going like this forever, feeling how sweaty his limbs had become, feeling him lose himself on top of me. It was the most riveting sight – and I had a front row seat. I withdraw my hand, though, and receive only a needy whine. He’s not worried. He knows something much more satisfying will come.

He sits up, straddling me, and I felt my dick press into his backside. He runs his hand down my chest, splaying his fingers over my abdomen in appreciation– a quiet, reverent sound parts his lips, and he’s pressing his ass on me, slick with spit and lube. “To think, that one day I’d be fucking the king of Lucis.” He tilts his head, blonde hair shifting over his eyes, making him look even more debauched.

“To think, that one day I’d be in bed with a _whore_.” Prompto visibly shudders, and he’s grinding back again, with an urgency that makes me clutch his thighs. Fuck. I just wanted to be inside him already, make him lose control, make him fall into a thousand pieces on top of me. I swallow thickly, staring at him with a quiet dominance – and he does what he promised. He raises his hips, lining himself up with my cock, and bites his lip as he settles downwards. My hands go to his hips, thumbs pressing into his abdomen as he _whines_.

If I thought he felt good on my fingers, I wasn’t even prepared to how good he felt on my cock. It was tight, and warm, and it takes every ounce of will I have not to cum right there. Prompto settles snugly on me, hands on my chest for leverage, eyes lidded. “Gods, you fucking feel good –” Prompto’s moaning, letting his body get used to the burn of being split open. I grip his thighs hard enough to leave bruises, but he doesn’t care – his head is tilting back as he rolls his hips, reviling in every delicious drag of our bodies meeting. Fuck – I was the one moaning, now, feeling his body move on top of me. It was almost too much, because I could feel my balls draw close to my body while he moves, slow and languid, appreciating every fucking _inch_ of me.

I buck my hips impatiently, and he catches the moan that falls out of his throat, brows pinching together in concentration. He’s smiling, though, gazing at me. “No need to rush. We have all night.” His voice is lined with a heated promise, and it slides into my ears and makes me shudder. Gladio must’ve had a lot of money, because fuck – a high class escort was expensive in Insomnia. I wasn’t complaining, though, especially not when Prompto is moving again, this time raising his hips and sliding down my cock with a needy, wanton moan that leaves me _reeling_.

He felt so good. So perfect for me, stretched around my length. I can’t help but move my hips upwards, seeking that spot that would make him see stars. He leans forward on his knees, collapsing his weight into his palms on my chest, face hovering over mine as I adjust my hips. Our eyes meet, and he’s staring into me, pupils blown wide. I thrust forward, and he bites his lip – I was _close_. “You gonna help me out here?” I ask, and he shudders out a soft laugh, breathing on the redness of my lips. He shifts his ass back, just a tad, and I give an experimental thrust. Upon no reaction, I roll my hips slightly to the left – and fuck. He immediately reacts, jaw falling slack in a quiet moan, hips trembling. “There?”

Prompto nods eagerly. I thrust into him again, pin-pointing that spot, and he nearly wails. His eyes scrunch shut as I grab his waist, gripping him with a brutal force – and I fuck him. I fuck him until he’s seeing stars behind his eyelids, until his cock is jumping and begging to be touched. He’s almost screaming, breathing heavily with his exertion, clasping onto me as if he’d float away without me. My thighs are burning, and I could feel my hips faltering, but fuck – with him on top of me, screaming my name… I can do this forever.

“Noct–” He gasps, arms trembling weakly. He was the one supposed to be pleasing me, dammit – and yet here I am, making him into a writhing mess. He was tightening around me, and his hips were jolting violently. He was close to his climax, and I decided I was going to let him cum – then push him on his back and fuck him until I reached my bliss. “Oh _gods_ ,” He’s rolling his hips back to meet my thrusts, and the sound of our skin slapping distantly reaches my ears. I can’t focus on anything but him. This, with him wrapped tight around me, the delicious friction on my dick. The expression on his face, stretched and twisted in pleasure. He’s sweating, eyes fluttering open. They look like stained glass, reaching into my mind – I swallow thickly, savoring the feeling of him on top of me, touching his sweaty flesh all over.

Gods, he felt so fucking good.

This was _too_ good. I was losing myself in it, getting lost in the sensation of our bodies colliding, of that wet heat tightening around my cock. His hands curl into fists on my chest, and his voice raises a pitch, breaking as he falls over the edge of bliss. I can see every moment of it, every strained line in his face falling together like pieces of a puzzle. He cums all over himself, and on me, but I still fucked into him, letting him ride out his orgasm on my dick. He came untouched, and the thought nearly makes me cum, too.

Prompto’s shuddering his release, eyes rolling into the back of his head. It takes all he has to not collapse on top of me, and I can tell, because his arms are trembling violently. He’s tight, every muscle is rigid, and his mouth makes a pretty ‘o’ face that makes me grin. I’m moving again, striking his prostate and making him scream for real this time. His eyes fly open, and he’s staring at me, almost in panic – but doesn’t resist when I press his back against the mattress, holding his legs. I’m still so fucking hard it hurts. “You’re good at this,” Prompto gasps, when the tip of my dick presses against him again. “Ever consider becoming an escort?”

I laugh, and he’s smiling, licking his lips like a cat. He raises his hips to meet me, and his cock is twitching slowly. The sight makes my pupils dilate, and I’m pressing into him – watching how he jumps. He moans sweetly at my intrusion, and my eyes are on his face again. His eyes are lidded, body covered in cum and sweat. He doesn’t seem to mind the attention, either. Something tells me he was secretly a pillow princess, with the way he’s looking so utterly relaxed, blissed out and ready to take more. I run my hands up his front, then down his sides, gripping his waist again as I push in fully. He’s fluttering around me, clenching tight with a _mewl_.

His legs wrap around my hips, guiding me deeper with an insistent pull. I applauded myself for not cumming so soon – for being able to thrust in and not topple over immediately. Prompto’s hands find the sheets, and he’s clutching them tight when I find his prostate. I can see his whole body react to it, too. His spine is arching, and his head tips back as a throaty moan tears its way past his lips. I thrust in again, and again, and he’s spinning beneath me, nearly tearing my black sheets.

“Fuck,” He whines, raising his hips, meeting my thrusts eagerly. His cock is fully hard again, leaking profusely at the tip, and I was too tempted not to stroke it. “Oh fuck!” He’s wailing, body nearly convulsing at the tender touch. I press my thumb into the slit of his cock, tilting my wrist to put pressure on the tip, and he clenches so tight around me, I can hardly move. “Fuck, _yeah_ , just like that–” I grin sloppily, slamming my hips in and watching him soar. He’s fucking losing himself, and so am I. I tilt my hips upwards, hitting his prostate directly, and he cums.

He cums, and it’s as beautiful as the first time. The sight of his body drawing taut, his legs tightening painfully around my hips, that pretty ‘o’ face as he fucking _drools_ pushes me over, too. I spill inside of him with a string of curses, moaning out his name. _Fuck_. He’s so goddamn tight, and it makes my head spin. My hand still works over his cock, and it jumps within my palm. He’s whimpering, hips drawing away from me, or closer – I wasn’t sure. He was overstimulated, nearly crying with the pleasure bordering on pain. It was sexy beyond words, watching him. I withdrew my hand, and he fucking _whines_ , limbs feeling like jelly when I seal our lips together. I can taste myself on his tongue, vaguely, mixed with the remnants of alcohol, and the flavor of his spit.

I wasn’t sure how many times we fucked. After that, it was a blur. We were lost in each other. I’m pretty sure I bent him over at some point. He rode me again with his back facing me, I think. I’m pretty sure I sucked his dick, too, until he was begging me to stop with tears in his eyes. My sheets were absolutely ruined, but I was too tired and drunk to care when I finally passed out. I remember vaguely pulling him close to my chest when I did – but that was to be expected. I was a clingy sleeper. If he minded, I didn’t know.

And when I woke up, I felt sticky, and gross. I could hear the shower running – and I assumed it was Prompto. _Fuck_. I sat up, holding my head. It wasn’t hurting, but there was a slight discomfort, a dull ache that makes everything seem brighter than it really is. I didn’t remember much about last night. I remembered that we got into bed, and he gave me some amazing fucking head, but past that… I swallow thickly.

I roll out of bed, and wince, because fuck – my hips are sore. I can see a trail of hickeys down my torso, and the sight makes me bristle. Hopefully Ignis wouldn’t see. I look at myself in the mirror and grimace. There were hickeys all over my neck – yeah, Ignis was going to crucify me. I felt… different, though. Relaxed. I wasn’t worried about it too much. I pulled on a pair of sweatpants and groaned, running a hand through my hair. I could always join Prompto for a shower… the idea was _very_ tempting.

Before I could even start walking, though, the shower turns off, and after a moment, the bathroom door opens. Prompto was standing there, with a towel over his waist – and fuck, he has hickeys too. All over him. He looks at me for a second, then grins, and it’s like sunshine. “My boss is gonna be pissed.” He gestures to his hickeys, and I stifle the smug smile. The silence is almost awkward, and he’s shifting to find his clothes. “I hope you had fun.” He says. I watch him closely, admiring his smooth back. I wanted to take him to bed again, but I stopped myself. “I certainly did. I haven’t had a fuck that good in… wow. A long time.”

I did smile, then, helping him find his clothes. “Isn’t it like… your _job_ to have good sex?”

Prompto shrugs, dropping the towel and pulling on his boxers. The sight makes my throat go dry. “It’s my job to please. Not to be pleased,” He says it matter of factly. “It was nice to be given some attention.” I near him, holding his jeans in my hands, and he moves to take them, but I don’t let go. I’m staring at his lips – they were still red and pretty. He’s grinning, eyes sparkling. “That’s gonna cost you. Your time is up, _highness_.”

I lean close. “I’m the king, _right_? You can’t deny me. How about I give you some more attention?”

His breath catches, and he’s staring at me with wide eyes – yeah. That’s a good look. When I was drunk, my control slipped, but now I was everything a king should be. Powerful. Demanding. He gulps, and shakes his head, shaky fingers tugging at his jeans. I let them go, despite my own desires. “You wouldn’t be so cruel.”

I say nothing, grinning smugly.

“Oh fuck. You _would_.” He seems wary, but mildly interested, and doesn’t draw away when my lips press against his. He tastes like mint, and lust, and it makes my head spin. The jeans are nearly forgotten when I pull him closer, claiming his mouth in a demanding kiss. He’s moaning against me when I grind against his hardening cock – fuck, he’s as needy as I am.

**KNOCK KNOCK.**

We both freeze, and I growl out my frustration when I pull away from him. It’s Gladio. He’s standing in my bedroom doorway, smug and victorious. How did he get in? “Mornin’, sunshine. Hope you got rid of that stick up his ass, Prompto.” Prompto only grins, pulling on those skinny jeans and shaking his head.

“I think I can do my job right, dude.” He spares me a glance as he slips between Gladio and the door, looking for his discarded shirt in the lounge. I toss Gladio a glare.

“What?” He asks, still as smug as ever.

“Would’ve been even better if you didn’t interrupt us.” I say, rubbing my eyes.

“No way I’m paying for that. Getting this kid for an all nighter costed me a _fortune_ – you should be thanking me.” I say nothing in response, shoving past him to find Prompto pulling on his shirt. He’s tugging on his socks and shoes, then his coat, and then he’s looking at me, with that _knowing_ look that causes a flood of memories.

I chew on the inside of my lip. “Where can I reach you?” I find myself asking.

Prompto laughs, and he delves into his pocket to find something. He nears me, and he’s pressing a card into my chest. “Call me.” He’s fluttering his eyelashes, violet orbs flickering with promises. Gladio whistles behind me when Prompto leaves with a click of the door.

“Jesus. That kid is somethin’ else.”

**Author's Note:**

> hey everyone! i love escort prompto. idk if im gonna make this into a series or if this is just a good ol' one-shot. hope you enjoyed! come bother me on [tumblr.](https://philemal.tumblr.com/) and feel free to leave some feedback! it makes my entire week.


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